


One Piece Tumblr Prompts

by MaiKusakabe



Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Family, Flashback-levels, Fluff, Gen, Injury, M/M, Tumblr Prompt, What-if AU, these kids need some happiness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:47:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21675496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaiKusakabe/pseuds/MaiKusakabe
Summary: As the title indicates, here I will post the stories I write as prompts over on tumblr. Aside from those, from now on I will also add here some snippets I write that are too short to be their own stories.
Relationships: Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco & Shirohige | Whitebeard | Edward Newgate, Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco/Portgas D. Ace, Monkey D. Luffy & Portgas D. Ace, Monkey D. Luffy & Portgas D. Ace & Sabo
Comments: 59
Kudos: 237





	1. "Leave Me Alone" (MarcoAce)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> I'm finally bringing my OP prompt stories over from [tumblr](https://maisstories.tumblr.com/)! Each chapter will have its own rating and warnings at the beginning, including relationships, potential spoilers, etc, so please check the ANs before reading.
> 
> And we begin with... Post-Marineford MarcoAce! Anyone is surprised?
> 
> So, warnings for the chapter: angst, Marineford Happened

“I thought you cared.”

Marco winces. He’s been wondering when this would happen again. Two days of relative peace have been an awfully long time. He keeps his eyes on the newspaper he has been trying to read.

“I did. I _do_ ,” Marco replies, his words little more than a whisper. He knows better than to scream, better than to use a tone of voice that will carry past the walls.

“Really? That’s hard to believe. It took you… what? Five seconds to get those cuffs off? Five seconds _too late_ I mean.”

 _It was as fast as I could do it_ , Marco thinks, but the words stay behind his lips. It’s a hollow excuse, useless, made no more worthy simply because it’s the truth.

“I’m sorry,” Marco says instead, as he always does.

And, as every time before this one, there is no reply.

Marco turns around. It’s masochistic, but he can never force himself to keep his back turned for long.

Ace is sitting on the bed, his position similar to the ones he used to favor. The only difference is the gaping, bloody, and smoking hole piercing through his abdomen.

 _Please, leave me alone_ , Marco thinks, again like he always does. But these words, too, remain unsaid. If this is everything he has left of Ace, a ghost to haunt him and remind him of what was and what could have been, then Marco will take it. It _is_ all he has left of Ace, the only words he hears from him, the only words he will ever hear from him again.

“I love you,” Marco says instead.

Ace doesn’t reply. He never does.


	2. Hey, Luffy (ASL)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Given the (precious) reactions the first prompt I posted received, I've decided to be nice and follow up with a happy one to make it up to you guys.
> 
> No spoilers, unless you're reaaaaally far behind in the series. And by really I mean some five years.

The Striker is a damn uncomfortable ship to be on unless you’re Ace or someone immune to his powers. Still, Sabo couldn’t be gladder to have chased Ace down as soon as he heard that he’d gone off to pursue one of his crewmembers. Sabo doesn’t doubt Ace’s strength, one doesn’t become as infamous as Ace is for no reason, but something in Sabo froze at the thought of Ace on his own chasing an unknown threat. Perhaps it was his guilt over having left his brothers for ten years, perhaps it was his desire to spend as much time as possible with Ace despite their busy lives: whatever the reason, Sabo followed him, and now he’s damn glad he did.

Ace could be dead right now. That fruit, Teach’s fruit, is terrifying, and a real danger to devil fruit users. Unfortunately for him, not only is Sabo not a devil fruit user, but he is also a haki user.

It’s been a damn long fight, and not many of the town’s buildings have survived it, but right now Ace is sprawled next to Sabo on the floor, both of them panting in exhaustion and actually wounded on more than one place.

The Blackbeard Pirates are dead.

“So,” Sabo says when he has recovered his breath enough to speak, “Water Seven?”

“Yeah,” Ace replies. His stomach grumbles. “Food first.”

Sabo laughs. Ace may have changed —for the better, Sabo will never get tired of seeing him grin so much— but some things will always remain the same.

* * *

Fortunately for Sabo’s sore legs, the trip between Banaro Island and Water Seven is a short one, and Ace makes the Striker go at full throttle all the way there. However, once they arrive at Water Seven things get a little complicated. There is a marine ship anchored by the island. _Garp’s_ marine ship.

“OH, _FUCK_!” Ace yells for the two of them. They dart out of the Striker and run into the city, pushing aside startled citizens. It takes them two full minutes to realize they don’t know where Luffy is.

Oddly enough, everybody they ask tells them the Strawhat Pirates are at the Galley-La Company’s mansion, which is pretty odd by itself (then again, according to Ace, Luffy hasn’t lost his knack for getting into the weirdest of situations). They run over to the mansion, and hear noise long before they reach it.

Though it’s not a battle.

“Are they throwing a party?” Sabo asks Ace, coming to a stop before a shoddily repaired stretch of wall.

“Sounds like it,” Ace says, and they exchange a relieved glance. No Garp around, it would seem. Ace grins. “Hey, Sabo, why don’t you wait here?”

Sabo blinks, confused for the moment it takes him to understand what Ace intends to do. There are _a lot_ of people back in that party, and he’d like to have some privacy meeting Luffy. God knows he didn’t have it with Ace.

“Okay. Don’t get distracted by the food.”

Ace laughs and walks over to the side of the house. Sabo thinks about sitting on the low wooden step that surrounds the mansion, but he is far too nervous to stay still, so he settles for pacing around and trying to stay calm. The first is far easier than the second.

Sabo isn’t sure how much time passes before he hears a voice rising out amongst the ruckus of the party.

“Can’t you wait? There’s _food._ ” It’s a whine, and while Sabo may not recognize the voice by itself, he knows who it belongs to. Damn, Luffy is practically an adult now. He’s grown up.

“You can eat later, I promise this is worth it,” Ace says, an obvious grin in his voice, and Sabo wonders what he did to drag Luffy away from the food.

Sabo’s back is to the house when Ace and Luffy turn the corner, and he can’t even say it’s entirely by accident. Swallowing hard, Sabo makes himself turn around.

Luffy stops, looking at him with a confused expression that tells Sabo he finds him familiar but doesn’t quite know who he is (how could he? Luffy has thought Sabo dead for ten years) and Sabo swallows again.

It’s Ace who speaks first.

“Okay, so I already punched him, but it turns out it wasn’t his fault because he didn’t remember us, but now he does, so…” Ace shrugs, clearly unsure of how to finish that sentence.

Sabo clears his throat (and damn, running into Garp would have been easier).

“Hey, Luffy. It’s been a long time.”

Luffy’s eyes widen, Ace gives him a push on the back, and suddenly Sabo has an armful of sobbing Luffy. He’s not sure who is clinging to who harder, but Luffy is talking a mile a minute, words unintelligible due to tears and snot, and then Ace is there, hugging both of them and pretty much holding them up because Sabo’s legs don’t want to cooperate anymore.


	3. Reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The update I bring you today isn't a tumblr prompt. It was written recently, and has only been posted to Patreon previously.
> 
> Warnings: Spoilers. While I myself believe chapter 909 would be enough to read this piece, the story itself was inspired by chapter 964, and there are a few references to it.

Marco watches, immobile, until Nekomamushi’s ship vanishes in the horizon. There is still a chance to go back, he could run to the village and say he has to leave for a couple weeks, then take off after the ship. Catching up would be a matter of minutes.

But Marco can’t take the risk.

There is no one he can leave in charge while he’s gone, no one else who could protect the island if Weevil decides now is the time to come to Pops’ homeland in search of their nonexistent treasure.

So Marco watches, and once he can no longer see the ship, turns around. He doesn’t make for the village, nor for his own cabin. As things are, he can’t even risk digging up his kairoseki handcuffs to get roaringly drunk. No matter how much he wishes he could.

Marco lets his feet carry him to the two graves that overlook the sea. The makeshift box-turned-table with the three sake cups is still there, and Marco has added to the newspaper Sabo brought for Ace. He has cut out every news article that has come out about Luffy and stuck it to the stone, so Ace can see what his little brother has been up to. It has barely even been a month, and Luffy has already caused a few large messes.

That’s part of the problem now.

“I’m sorry, Ace,” Marco says. He drops next to the box, right where he could face both graves if he wanted. His eyes don’t move from the grass under his legs. “I hope your brother keeps being a stubborn bastard,” he adds, barely a whisper.

Because Monkey D. Luffy is about to go up against Kaido, and Marco can’t even be there to help him.

And not only Luffy.

Finally, after twenty long years, they are here. It took everything the crew had, back then, to hold back from storming Wano, and they only managed to do so with the knowledge that, in twenty years’ time, Toki’s powers would bring Momonosuke and half of Oden’s retainers back to the world, that _then_ would be the right time to fight.

‘Then’ has now arrived, and Marco couldn’t even get on the ship that came all the way out here expressly to pick him up, to give him a chance to avenge his dear friends.

Marco clenches his fists, and in doing so rips out of the ground the grass that was under his hands. He needs to stop doing that. The grass holds no fault for Marco’s shortcomings.

No, that’s all on Marco.

_How the mighty have fallen._

Marco looks up, his eyes barely glancing over Pops and Ace’s graves before going up to the clear sky above. He can almost hear it, an overenthusiastic idiot with no knowledge of the world marveling at the smallest of things.

He doesn’t even have a grave to go apologize to. There might not even _be_ a grave to go apologize to. Marco doesn’t know, because he hasn’t been to Wano in twenty years, and has turned his back on his chance to go now.

The fist that is always wrapped around his heart nowadays tightens.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. To Oden, to Toki, to Pops, to Ace…

The worst part is, he doubts any of them would have held his choice against him.


	4. “I promise I’ll come back for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the prompts I received on tumblr grew to be... rather larger than the prompts were intended to be.
> 
> I wrote this one recently, shortly after chapter 957 came out. While there are no direct spoilers for the content in there, this story was heavily inspired by it, so read at your own discretion if you haven't read that chapter.
> 
> Possible spoilers aside, this chapter I'm warning for angst as well as mentions and implications of actual acts of piracy, not Strawhat-style.

_“I promise I’ll come back for you.”_

Dad’s words run through Marco’s head as he crawls into one of the highest kitchen cupboards. He already went through it yesterday, but maybe he missed something amongst the old pots and pans in here.

Even if there is nothing, dad shouldn’t take long to come back now.

It has been long, longer than Marco is comfortable with. Surely the ship has already reached their new home and the people who went on it have built what they need before anyone can move in. Marco wanted to go, he wanted to help dad build their new home, but dad said a city in construction is no place for a little boy.

Marco isn’t little. But dad has been very worried since the attack. He hasn’t been himself since they found mom. And so Marco stayed behind, because he doesn’t want to give dad more reasons to worry.

Dad will be worried when he comes back.

He told Marco to ask Mrs. Evans for anything he needed, but Marco saw Mrs. Evans rationing her family’s food last week, and no merchants have come to the island.

Marco can’t ask Mrs. Evans for food when she has trouble feeding her own family.

But dad won’t take long to come back now. So Marco will wait, and he will keep searching the house in case he missed something. He has plenty of water from the well to last him, and he read somewhere a person can spend a very long time without eating, even if they’re hungry.

Marco can be hungry for a little longer. Dad said there are plenty of fields at their new home. They will have lots of food.

Then Marco has a brilliant idea.

Mrs. Evans may have little food, but perhaps someone else has some to spare! There is still money in the emergency box mom used to keep, so Marco can use it to buy the food from them. That way they won’t be giving it away for nothing. He knows dad won’t be angry, he always says money is good to buy the things they need.

Marco has to push a chair against the dresser to reach the top drawer where the box is. He is not sure how much food will cost now —he knows it won’t be usual market price— so he takes the box and all its contents with him.

Their house is a little ways off from town, and that spared it the worst of the attack. One of the fires reached their door, though, and mom’s orchards are gone. Black ash on blackened ground. Marco doesn’t look at it. It reminds him of how they found mom, and he doesn’t want to think about her.

He needs food. He can’t cry now. He has cried a lot already.

Marco is walking through one of the rundown alleys at the town’s outskirts when he hears laughter. He stops. Not many people laugh here lately, not even little kids. And that laughter… there is something off about it.

“Man, can’t believe we made the trip for this crap!” someone exclaims. They sound amused.

“Should’ve guessed. Those farmers had nothing with them,” someone else answers. There is a crash, followed by a weird low noise, and more laughter.

Marco doesn’t know those voices.

He stops and moves carefully to press himself against the wall.

Did someone get drunk? Wouldn’t be the first time someone does that and starts breaking stuff. Even more so since the attack.

“Hey, no one’s told you to stop!” the first person yells. There is a loud smacking sound, followed by a sob.

Marco freezes.

He hasn’t heard these sounds before, no, but he has heard stories. Many people talked, in hushed tones and when they didn’t realize he was listening, of the things that happened during the attack.

Marco’s breath is coming faster, and he grabs his left forearm and digs the nails of his right hand into it as hard as he can to keep himself grounded. He can’t panic, not now. He needs to get out. Away from the city and as far from the houses as possible. That is what they did in school, last time. There isn’t a forest to hide in anymore, but if he can make it to the hills, then perhaps…

Marco nods to himself. Now with a plan, he turns and starts to backtrack his path. He tries to move as fast as he can while being quiet. He wants to run, but he knows it is a bad idea. If he runs, he won’t be able to hear anyone approaching, and he needs to be able to hear them if he is to hide.

His strategy pays off when he hears the steps. They are loud in the renewed silence of the alley, and they sound heavy. Whoever is walking, it is not a tiny person. Marco looks around, spots one of the many piles of rubble that have been moved out of the way, and dives to hide behind it. He can cover himself entirely in its shadow.

Keeping his breathing even is harder, but Marco has had practice at controlling his breathing lately. Being quiet was the only way to avoid making dad feel even worse. If he had known Marco still cried every night, he wouldn’t have left on the ship. They needed dad to go, Marco knows: dad is the only navigator left in town. So Marco learned to control his breathing and keep quiet, and now that could save his life.

The steps have come closer, and a massive shadow blocks most of what little sun enters the alley.

The steps halt right on the other side of the rubble.

“You should come out,” comes the voice.

Marco freezes again.

Maybe this person just thinks someone _could_ be hiding around here. Maybe this person only stopped there by chance.

So Marco holds his breath, closes both hands around fallen pieces of bricks, and waits.

The shadow moves, but at the same time the person remains on the same spot. There is more sun, though, so whoever is there must have sat or crouched down.

“It doesn’t matter how well you hide; most people in this crew would find you anyway. So step out of there, son. I won’t hurt you.”

Marco bristles. _Won’t hurt him?!_ Marco is pretty sure he knows exactly what is happening in town. Those words do nothing but confirm it.

Before he can think better of it, Marco darts around the rubble and hurls the two bricks up and forward. They bounce off an arm. A massive, muscular arm that is resting on the knee of the largest man Marco has ever seen. Even crouching down, he towers over Marco and everything around them, and the large blade he carries and his clothes scream _pirate_.

The man looks down at Marco. Marco narrows his eyes and stays put, because this man is blocking his way and he is too large to dodge around him to escape in any direction in this tiny alley.

There is a drawn out silence. Marco glances around, looking for another way out. Perhaps there is a hole in one of the many damaged houses he can escape through.

“That’s not a good idea,” the man says. He sounds calm, awfully calm, and Marco wants to yell at him.

So he does.

“And why not?!” he demands, clenching his fists.

Marco is sick of pirates. They come into town, destroy and hurt all they want, and think they can get away with anything.

“Because nowhere in this island is safe.”

“You don’t know that,” Marco says, voice sharp. Inside, he has gone cold. What does that mean? They aren’t just here for their valuables and then will leave? That is what pirates do, isn’t it? If he can stay out of the way, he should be safe.

That is what happened last time.

But Marco is not out of the way anymore, is he?

There is something weird about this pirate’s eyes. They don’t look like an evil pirate’s eyes should. To Marco, they appear sad. It makes no sense.

“This island is going to be destroyed. Everything in it taken down, and the remnants burned.”

Marco stumbles back. It is as though this man has hit him. But he hasn’t. He has spoken quiet and calmly. Not mocking, not amused like those other two. Just… stating a fact.

Marco wants to be sick.

“Why’re you telling me?” he asks, and is surprised his voice comes out at all.

The man stays silent again, looking at Marco so intently he wants to squirm. He refuses to do it and instead straightens up.

“You resemble your father a lot.”

Marco can’t breathe.

_What…?_

The words he overheard earlier slam into him like a fist.

_“Those farmers had nothing with them.”_

Farmers.

Most of the people on the ship that left town last month were farmers, going ahead to start working on the lands as they built.

“How…?” Marco attempts to ask, but he chokes on the words. _How do you know my father?_

The pirate is giving him an unmistakably sad look. Marco wants to beat it out of his face.

“We reached a small colony last week. They had just started to build,” the man begins.

Marco may have screamed. He isn’t sure. All he knows is that he launches himself at the man. He doesn’t care that he is a giant, he doesn’t care that he is armed, that he is a pirate. He wants him to stop. To shut up and admit he is lying, to say he and his horrid crew have never been to the colony.

The man doesn’t move, but Marco might as well be punching rocks for all the effect his attempt has on the man’s leg.

A hand descends on Marco’s body. It is so large in engulfs his whole body and keeps him immobile against the man’s leg.

“He asked— no, he _begged me_ to spare his son when the captain announced we’d come here next. But very few are ever spared. Your best chance is to come with me.”

Marco isn’t listening. He doesn’t want to listen. _He can’t listen_.

This man, this _monster—_

He twists around and slams his head against the man’s hand. His arms and his legs are blocked, but his head is free enough. So Marco slams and slams, and when a giant finger stops him from moving, he bites what skin he can reach.

The man doesn’t react, not even when Marco draws blood.

The man moves his other arm, and Marco finds himself with another hand on him. This one isn’t holding him still though. No, the man’s rubbing circles into Marco’s back.

“There was no saving your father,” the man continues. Marco hates him. He hates him even more for daring to sound _sorry_ as he speaks. “But you have a chance. If you’ll take it.”

Marco’s jaw has gone slack. He releases the man’s skin. His mouth is sour and bitter with blood and tears, and he can’t stop sobbing long enough to even glare up at the man, much less tell him where to shove his offer.

The man moves one hand away and brings it back with something held between two fingers. He has to hold it really close to Marco for him to notice it at all.

“You have potential, kid. If you eat this, the captain will allow you to stay on board.”

Marco isn’t stupid. When the blurry blue thing comes into focus, he realizes the swirly patterns on it mean it is a devil fruit. One of these, he knows, would make even a kid like him valuable to pirates.

It makes no sense that this man is giving it to him.

Somehow, Marco manages to choke the question out.

“I’m already a fruit user,” the man says. “I’d rather have this one help you now than sell it later.”

Marco doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand this man at all. He has seen his father die without doing anything —if he didn’t _kill him_ himself, and then Marco would…— has let Marco attack and even hurt him, has offered to let him live, and now is giving him the most expensive thing Marco has ever seen.

A thing that is also food.

A part of Marco wants to die. To leave this horrible world here and now, to go with his parents. But another part of him, a larger one, doesn’t want to. That part, the one that used to dream about seeing the world, now wants to see this crew destroyed. Wants to know what happened, _why_ it happened, and wants to make sure it won’t happen ever again.

So Marco takes the fruit. He lunges for it, just now realizing he is no longer immobilized, and bites into it before the man can change his mind.

It tastes disgusting, the worst thing Marco has ever eaten. He wolfs it down as quickly as he can. He doesn’t know when he’ll be able to eat again. _If_ he will.

He is wiping his face on his sleeve, having managed to stop crying as he ate, when he hears a voice.

“Oi, Newgate!” It is one of the men from before, the ones who were… Marco doesn’t want to think about it. “What’s with that kid?”

The man, Newgate, doesn’t move from where he is crouching, but he looks over Marco’s shoulder to where the voice came from. Marco refuses to turn, not wanting to see any more of these pirates.

“He’s coming with us,” Newgate calls back.

There is a guffaw.

“You think the captain’ll let you keep a stray?” the other one speaks this time, sounding both mocking and amused.

“Kid’s a fruit user,” Newgate says, as though that should be enough.

There is a short silence.

“Really?” the second man asks. He sounds skeptical, but also curious. “Well, I guess the captain’ll let you keep him, them. First step into that dream of yours, eh?”

And the two men burst out laughing, as though they’ve told the best joke in the world.

“Get lost, both of you,” Newgate tells them. He sounds tired and annoyed, as though the joke is an old one he doesn’t like.

He stands up, and takes Marco with him, up on his hand. Without another word to his crewmembers, Newgate starts walking away, and it doesn’t take long for them to reach another alley that is empty and away from any noise. It is as though most of the city is silent now. Marco doesn’t want to think about it.

“Listen,” Newgate says. He crouches down again, and sets Marco on his feet. Marco has lost all energy by now, and falls on his ass on the ground. “Being in this crew won’t be easy. It’s an awful place, and you’ll have to keep quiet about many horrible things, but it’s temporary, do you understand?”

Marco swallows.

“…Yeah.” Of course he does, he intends to _destroy_ them.

Newgate moves so he is kneeling properly on the ground instead of crouching. He is so big it makes no difference to Marco.

“What’s your name?”

“…Marco.” He omits the surname. It is irrelevant now, and he doesn’t want to associate his parents to this. What he is doing, what he wants to do, would horrify them. It is best if he doesn’t become a pirate as their son, no matter how temporary becoming a pirate will be.

So, he is just Marco from now on.

“I’m Edward Newgate,” Newgate introduces himself. “Now, I’ll tell you what I know about that fruit of yours before we have to meet the captain. It’s a very special power, you know?”


	5. Snuggle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is the anniversary of an awful event in my life. So here, have a fluffy prompt.

Ace wakes up in a tangled mess of limbs and sheets. He blinks, disoriented, before realizing that he woke up because he really needs to go to the bathroom. Carefully, he begins to pry the clingy arms from around his body. He has barely untangled himself from the first one when the second arm tightens around him. Then the first one is back with a vengeance.

“Luffy,” Ace says, poking at his brother’s stretchy arm. “Not to be an ass, but I _really_ need to get up.”

“Uh-huh,” Luffy mumbles against Ace’s back.

Ace sighs.

“It’ll be just a moment.”

“You’re warm,” Luffy says, as though that settles everything.

“Well, tough luck then. I gotta pee.”

“Well, I refuse to let you go,” Luffy shoots back, mimicking Ace’s voice.

Ace rolls his eyes. He grabs Luffy’s right arm and begins to pull. Luffy, the little shit, takes the chance to stretch his left arm and turn it into a rubber rope around Ace’s body. There is no way Ace can shake him off without violence involved. And he might have used it, under different circumstances. But Luffy is still all bandaged up, because he charged into two different hells to save Ace’s worthless ass from being executed.

So Ace sighs, secures Luffy’s right arm around himself, and stands up with Luffy wrapped all over him.

He ignores the questioning and amused looks his crewmates throw their way, and hopes the bathroom will be empty.

Luffy is snoring and drooling on Ace’s shoulder.


	6. "On Your Knees" (MarcoAce)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First M-rated prompt to join the series. This was, of course, written for a smutty prompt list a while back. I've revised the text for typos, but the prompt remains otherwise unchanged.

Ace sticks a paper with the words ‘Do Not Disturb’ to the outer side of the cabin’s door before closing and locking it. As if anybody would dare: that’s the reason they’re here in the first place.

He turns around to find Marco standing in the middle of the room, his back to the door just like Ace left him.

“You know,” Ace says in a casual voice, taking his time to look around their cabin, “I was _really_ looking forward to coming back after those two weeks away,” Ace starts to meander towards Marco. “And what do I find when I come back? Half the commanders waiting to beg me to do something about your mood. Hell, even _Pops_ asked me to try to calm you down a little.” Ace stops behind Marco, places his hands on the purple-clad shoulders and slides the open shirt down easily. “So… what happened?”

“Our crew is full of idiots,” Marco says with an edge to his voice that confirms what Ace has been told; Marco is completely out of patience.

Reaching around Marco’s waist, Ace starts working on the belt and sash.

“And that justifies sending ten people to the infirmary?”

His task done, Ace moves to work on removing Marco’s pants.

“Those idiots could’ve seriously hurt themselves. I just gave them some bruises.”

Ace hums, unconvinced. He’s heard the story, and the antics those guys pulled usually deserve a good dressing down followed by unpleasant tasks the next week or two.

“Step out of your shoes and pants,” Ace orders, taking a step back.

Marco does. He has to bend down to remove his overly-complicated sandals, giving Ace a nice view of his ass and hardening cock.

“What about the people assigned to bathroom duty?” Ace asks. “We’ll have shiny toilets for months with that list.”

“It’s a perfectly justified list,” Marco says.

“You’re the only one who thinks so, which is why you need a refresher course on patience.” Ace grins. “Go under the desk. On your knees.”

Marco does, and it isn’t until he has crawled under the desk and settled on the desired position that Ace gets his first glimpse of Marco’s face. Eagerness and arousal. Pity he’s in for a bit of a disappointment.

Ace removes his belt, opens his pants, and pulls the chair over to sit before Marco. He can’t see him from this position, so he sneaks a hand under the desk to rest it on Marco’s head.

“Now you’re going to take my cock in your mouth, settle it on your tongue, and you won’t move at all until I’m done here. I have all that paperwork you dumped on me before I left to complete.”

Ace hears a muttered curse, but then the heat of Marco’s mouth is around his cock, and Marco uses his tongue to move Ace’s cock around until it’s settled on it and then goes motionless.

Ace pats him on the head before pulling his hand out from beneath the desk.

“Put your hands on my knees, I don’t want you touching yourself.”

As Ace pulls a stack of papers close to himself, he steels himself for some very hard hours.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bring you some Whitebeard Pirates pain :)
> 
> As some of you may know, I am a mod for the Romance Dawn OP Zine, and currently, contributor applications are open. If you are an artist, a writer, or a merch artist and would like to join us, [please come check our blog out](https://romancedawn-zine.tumblr.com/) and fill the app form :)

Marco withdrew his hand, blue flames vanishing as he lowered it.

“That’s all I can do,” he said, standing up as he did.

He spun around and marched over to the door.

“Marco,” Pops called after him.

Under different circumstances, Marco would have ignored him. Right now, though, he couldn’t.

Marco stopped, but he didn’t speak.

“I won’t change my mind,” Pops began, and Marco clenched his fists to avoid punching him, “but I wish this wasn’t necessary.”

“It _isn’t_ ,” Marco all but snapped. He didn’t turn around.

“I can’t be seen like that; the world would think us weak if I was.”

“So you’d rather _die_?!” Marco retorted. Blue fire sprang around his hands. He’d dug into them hard enough to draw blood.

There was a long pause.

“No. I’d rather this wasn’t necessary at all.”

Marco didn’t answer. He tried not to imagine the scene behind him, with Pops missing his life support and preparing to put up an image that wouldn’t hold up for more than three powerful attacks.

“I’m going to check on the crew,” Marco said at long last. “We’re almost at Marineford.”


End file.
